


cradle warmth

by gabriphales



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, i wanted soft chire/agere az so i wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: aziraphale stresses - and eventually regresses. gabriel and crowley come home just in time to look after him
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	cradle warmth

**Author's Note:**

> tfw u cant regress urself so u gotta project on ur fave

it doesn't always start out well. more often than not, it comes about precisely as result of some deep-seeded shame. a remorse he's been buckling down, overflowing with, rooted in the deep chasms of his stomach. he'll try to appease that guilt, do anything he can to satiate the hot white _burning_ for more than a second's length. but it never works out quite the way he's wanting it to.

today, of course, is no different. he's been dithering for give or take five hours now. woke up on the wrong side of the bed, he supposes. (only in the metaphorical sense - he sleeps betwixt his darling dearests.) there's been nothing but dishes to keep his noisy mind company. both gabriel and crowley are away for the day, consumed with work, and they won't return until near _evening._ he's sick from it. sick from the bittersweet warmth of a home all to himself. the perfectly folded quilts going unused, and the sofa cushions plump, full - nobody's sat on them.

he misses them quite terribly. he'll be the first to admit it. but he has duties to chase after, tending to the dishes, the dirty sink, his books - though they've been organized and reorganized ten times over now. he's come to a fierce, indelicate conclusion. if he can just keep his head on track, sort everything in order, he'll be alright. he won't break down, he won't be in an unsightly manner when his husbands come home. no, he'll be perfectly fine instead. squeaky clean, impeccably delighted. they won't ever sense a thing, not the slightest disturbance. he can do this.

as it turns out, unfortunately, he _cannot_ do this. half an hour into his fit of determination, aziraphale crumbles. he's not precisely certain what led to it, nor how it came about. what he is certain of, however, is that the grandfather clock in his bedroom quarters is chiming a miracled alarm, and he's bawling his eyes out, curled up on the floor, while crowley and gabriel are bound to be turning the corner any second now. he shudders at the thought, at the preliminary _shame_ he always feels when he knows _it's_ about to happen. this thing he does, this unseemly idiosyncrasy.

it's not that he wants to be babied, per say - it's that he needs to. his body has a demand for it, an ache. like a wound festering for antibiotics, pleading to be healed, showed attention, _cared_ for. oh, he really does need to be cared for.

he doesn't even realize he's begun crying until someone comes about to stop it. a warm, strong hand settled atop his head. stroking through his curls, petting over his scalp. gentle, unassuming, as careful as any one touch can be. aziraphale pauses his sniffling. he can tell it's gabriel with him. he doesn't even have to try.

"sweetheart," gabriel's voice comes out in all the pacified tones of a man who's trying very hard to be the calm one in a situation. "babylove, are you with me?"

aziraphale nods, choking back another wet, throat-tearing sob. he rubs at his eyes with the backs of his knuckles, desperately hoping to wipe some of the damaged aftermath away. gabriel's quick to pull his hands down, clasping them together, held sternly, safely in his grasp.

they're so much bigger than his. gabriel's hands, that is. so nice, so soft. his palms are like heaven. his fingers divine. they make aziraphale feel smaller, as if he were... as if he were - 

he can't admit it to himself, but still, at the same time, can't hold back from indulging in its pleasures.

"small," he finally mutters. unbearably quiet, he has to wonder how gabriel manages to hear him whatsoever.

gabriel's gaze softens, something light and milky takes hold. like honey-glazed sunlight lurking in his only slightly concerned smile. dwelling at the depths of his warm, willing eyes.

"feeling small today, dovey?" gabriel asks, cupping aziraphale's face for good measure. he thumbs over the damp peaks of his cheekbones, drying him off cautiously as he can. "really? is my little poohbear feeling small?"

aziraphale nods again, less teary-eyed for all the joy - and clear endearment - evident in gabriel's voice. his lips quirk into a tiny smile. more for gabriel than it is for himself.

"oh, i'm so happy i get to see my baby when he's small. i missed you so _very_ much today, and now look at my luck! i get to take care of you all night, yes?" gabriel gorges him on affection, tugging aziraphale into his lap, and bouncing him on his knee. his hand rubs up and down the small of aziraphale's back, running a soothing path, soaking his spine in saccharine adoration.

aziraphale giggles, "you're tickling me!"

something bright and delighted passes over gabriel's face. his brow rises, eyes gleaming. that toothy grin is back before aziraphale can even process the doom he's walked himself into.

gabriel's hands are swift and delicate with the loving torture he ensues. attacking at aziraphale's belly, his chest, at the spot just prickling near the nape of his neck. aziraphale scrunches away from all of it, in pure hysterics, rosy-faced and red all over.

in the end, gabriel lets up once aziraphale's heaving just wears down. letting him fall limp, cradled up against his chest, head pressed into his shoulder. listening to the pulse he knows is only there for his comfort. he loves gabriel so.

but of course, even in his infantile state of mind, he soon comes to realize something's out of place. someone, more like it.

"where's crowley?" he starts up, wiggling in gabriel's lap, and peering about the room rather unsuccessfully.

gabriel's quick to answer, quiet down his worries. "just upstairs, love. he had a feeling you might be small, and didn't want to overwhelm you with both of us at once. do you want to go see him?"

aziraphale brightens up exponentially at that, clambering to an uneven, careless footing, relying on gabriel's hand in his own to keep him steady. they toddle up the spiral staircase together, aziraphale rushing ahead of gabriel, practically pulling him along the steps as he goes.

the sight of crowley is worth it. he's always worth it. aziraphale launches himself upon him, clambering atop crowley where he sits tucked up on their sofa. crowley startles, a snort forced straight from his body as he's faced with his angel wiggling his way above him.

"well, hello there. seems like somebody's happy to see me." he croons, hands mussing through aziraphale's hair, fluffing up his curls until they're in a proper state - something aziraphale would never allow were he in a more adult mindset. 

aziraphale nuzzles against his chest, cooing happily. "mhm! i waited all day, you were gone for _sooo_ long."

"so long?" crowley snickers. "well, i'm here now, aren't i? d'you want your crowley? want him to make everything better?"

aziraphale claps his hands together, making a sharp, shrill sort of noise that can only be described as _monumental_ excitement. there's a mellow glint of something indescribably relieved waiting in his smile, and crowley knows, crowley can tell aziraphale really has been utterly tormented left here all by himself. well - that's nothing he can't attend to now. he'll make up for it, surely. aziraphale never holds onto things for too long when he's like this anyways. children, crowley's noted, have very short attention spans.

hoisting him up with his legs still clung around his waist, crowley carries him down to their shared bedroom, aziraphale scream-laughing all the way. he's simply enamored, it seems, at the thought of being paraded around, lifted so painlessly. (of course, gabriel is close behind, should any near-drop incidents occur.)

"alright, let's get you into your jammies." crowley says, setting aziraphale down on his own two feet. "up with your arms, love." 

aziraphale does just as directed, lifting his arms, and letting crowley shimmy him out of his sweater and button up. his trousers are soon to follow, neatly folded off to the side by gabriel's waiting hands. 

"nightgown, gabe." crowley asks, arm extended outwards.

"got it." gabriel roots through the closet, pulling forwards the sheer, white cotton gown aziraphale treasures so close to heart. he's kept it since the victorian era, after all. decked out in all sorts of frills and laces, with soft, puffy sleeves. crowley tugs it on over aziraphale's head, squishing his cheeks with an open-palmed, loving grasp, and kissing his pink-tipped nose.

"you want your teddy?" gabriel asks, the golden-haired bear in question held at his side. 

"please," aziraphale says, still conscientious, though he can't quite resist the urge to reach and grope at empty air, making grabby hands.

"silly boy," crowley tells him, pressing the bear into his arms. "come on, little one, you want to rest with us for the night?"

aziraphale scurrying into their bed, heaping the quilts all the way up to his chest, is enough of an answer for crowley's sake. crowley lays down beside him, inviting every bit of aziraphale's nestling and nosing into his neck. the shaky jostle of his cuddles, hands clinging onto crowley's shoulders, thrown around his abdomen.

"read to me?" he tosses out the quiet plea, his thumb a silent threat three inches from his mouth. he favors the paw of his stuffy instead, nibbling at that, and stuffing a cozy amount between his lips. just enough to weigh his jaw down, keep him lightheaded and sleepy.

"should crowley and i take turns? reading the lines, i mean." gabriel clarifies, coming in behind aziraphale to shelter at his back. his massive, bricklike structure a comfort beyond words. aziraphale appreciates him more than he can say.

"mmph," he whines around his teddy's hand. "yes, please."

a book is miracled from the shelves downstairs. gabriel pages through the first few chapters - he knows what he's looking for, there's a very particular scene in this one, that aziraphale happens to be especially fond of. once he finally comes across it, he mutters something pleased under his breath. aziraphale has to stifle a laugh. gabriel, being so serious as he often is, is enrapturing to a childlike mind. like this, aziraphale finds him simply hilarious.

crowley's voice is supple, feasibly soft as it heavies aziraphale's eyelids, leads them to fluttering shut. gabriel, though rougher in his interjections, sharp and untrimmed around the edges, is equally as cooling to the unstirred heat in aziraphale's head. he drifts off with less to care about than he'd started the day harboring. safe, and beloved, exactly where he belongs.


End file.
